


Literally, Not Figuratively

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Liam POV, M/M, Possessive!Zayn, Shameless Smut, Top!Zayn, bottom!Liam, slightly dominant zayn, tiny bit of fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis locks Zayn and Liam in a closet to force them to confront their feelings.<br/>But he's missing a crucial detail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Literally, Not Figuratively

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this really quick one shot because I wanted to write something fun and easy and in Liam's POV. There are probably some errors because I didn't double check it. Sorry! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> xx Taylor

They’re in the closet.

Not like figuratively in the closet, though half a million of their fans think they are, and Liam supposes that publicly they sort of are, but right now they’re like literally in the closet.

Louis’s locked them in the small closet just off their dressing room, and he’s not letting them out.

“Louis I swear if you don’t let us out,” Zayn shouts through the door, dark eyes a particularly vicious shade, and Liam’s fairly certain he’s not meant to be turned on by that.

He is though. Of course.

Zayn pounds his open palm against the door, the harsh sound echoing through the small, dim space, and Liam would laugh if he didn’t think Zayn would kill him for it.

See, they’ve just gotten out of an interview, which Liam honestly doesn’t mind (he never minds interviews, which is why he usually answers most of the questions because he’s the good one, the responsible one, the one all the mum’s love and if he’s chaffing against that, well no one else has to know) but Zayn hates them. Zayn loathes interviews like he loathes mornings and cold coffee. It’s honestly a bit fascinating to Liam – like most things involving Zayn are – and if this were any other day he’d simply stick by Zayn’s side until the older boy finally wound down and smiled guiltily at him.

But it’s not any other day.

No, today’s the day that Louis Tomlinson has decided he’s had enough.

“I’ve had enough!” Louis shouts back through the door, obviously hovering just on the other side, probably with Niall and Harry awkwardly looking on. “I mean it!”

Liam rolls his eyes and cuts in before Zayn can snap back. “Yes, Louis, we know you mean it. Knew you meant it the first time you said it let alone the seventeenth.”

Silence, followed quickly by Niall’s – no definitely Harry’s – muffled laughter.

“I liked you better before Zayn taught you what sarcasm was.”

“Funny,” Liam grins. “I’m not sure I’ve ever liked you.”

A shocked gasp is covered by Zayn’s loud laugh, and he finally turns his gaze back on Liam and Liam thinks (stupidly) that he wishes it never left him. Zayn’s laugh is pure joy, boyish charm in the scrunching of his nose that’s captivating because it’s bloody charming. Liam could die happy if Zayn’s eyes were on him every second, and that is part of the problem – Louis’s problem that is.

An answering grin tugs at Liam’s lips, and he knows that his eyes have gone all crinkly. He’d be a bit embarrassed about it if Zayn didn’t always sing that stupid lyric from Little Things at him because Zayn _knows._

(Zayn knows everything about Liam, but especially about Liam’s insecurities. The mental thing to Liam though is how he never told Zayn any of it. He never sat down and admitted to his insecurities, but Zayn knows. He knows, and he bats them all away like they mean nothing, and the way Zayn does that means everything to Liam. Which is definitely also part of Louis’s problem).

“I swear to God if you two are making eyes at each other in there –” Louis pounds against the door to gain their attention because he’s Louis. (Harry once compared him to Tinkerbelle, and Niall had to sit down he was laughing so hard). He’s right though, and Zayn and Liam’s connection snaps as they both glare at the door, Zayn moving closer to Liam until his back is pressed to Liam’s front and they're both leaning against the wall and glaring at the locked door. Zayn slumps tiredly against Liam like he's giving up.

“Just let them out, Lou,” Harry tries, ever reasonable.

“No fucking way,” Louis snorts back. “They’ve been mentally fucking each other for months, and I’m sick of it. Fuck it out of your systems! I won’t have it anymore. You two need to fess up and fuck it out!”

“Classy,” Niall cheers with an overdone whistle, and Liam knows that he’s rolling his eyes. For all of Niall’s good humor, he’s almost like Liam when it comes to this ridiculousness.

“We haven’t been mentally fucking each other for months,” Zayn hollers back, rolling his eyes. “That’s not even a thing Louis.”

Liam’s arms snake around Zayn’s waist, pressing the slimmer boy closer as he tucks a smile against his shoulder. He can’t help the way he tangles himself with Zayn, and it’s not like Zayn’s fighting him much on it. “And we’ve nothing to admit to!” Liam adds after a moment.

“Please! You two have been in love with each other since –”

A dull thud echoes, and Liam wonders which one hit Louis, Niall or Harry. His money is on Harry because the lad has some weird ideas about love and romance and interfering with fate or something.

His thoughts about mental betting are disrupted though when he catches the slight blush decorating Zayn’s cheeks just in the corner of his vision and oh. That’s new. Liam quirks an eyebrow at Zayn but doesn’t comment.

“Just admit it and fuck and then I’ll let you out!” Louis shouts. “Or keep repressing it and be miserable twats and stay locked in the closet forever. See if I care!”

“Can’t keep them in there forever,” Niall points out. “We leave in ten minutes.”

“Shut up, Niall.”

Zayn sighs and leans his head back against Liam’s shoulder as the whispered argument between Louis and Niall starts up. Harry’s slow drawl interrupts every few moments, but Liam highly doubts that’s doing much good. Liam can’t actually hear what any of them are saying, not that he particularly cares to try very hard.

Not when he can focus on Zayn instead.

Zayn’s toying with Liam’s fingers where they’re spread against his stomach, absentmindedly humming under his breath, and Liam knows that Zayn’s content to wait it out. He’s calmed down since Liam tugged him over, which was Liam’s intention, but now Liam wonders if that wasn’t what he wanted after all. He thought he just wanted Zayn to relax, but maybe – now that Louis’s provided them this nice closet and some privacy for the first time in what feels like forever – maybe Liam wants more.

“Think Louis’ll actually keep us in here until we leave?” he asks cautiously, forcing himself to be still even though he wants to fidget. Liam always fidgets when he’s planning something without Zayn, like he’s inherently guilty if Zayn doesn’t know everything at all times.

Zayn shrugs, frowning at the door. “Yeah probably. And it’ll be more like fifteen minutes knowing the crowd outside.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Liam repeats slowly because he’s thinking. He’s thinking that a person could do a lot in fifteen minutes. A lot. Especially when said person is locked in a closet that’s mostly private with the person he’s been stupidly fancying for months now.

Zayn turns his head, glancing up at Liam with a quirked eyebrow. “Li?”

Liam flushes but can’t bite back his grin, and he waits for Zayn to catch up. And Zayn always does.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Zayn lets out a startled laugh and pulls away from Liam. Liam frowns but Zayn hovers close, folding his arms over his chest with wide eyes. “Fucking hell, Li. Are you serious?”

Liam feels his flush deepen but he shrugs, biting at his lip. (He knows what he looks like when he does this, is very aware of the way his eyes are probably dilated, the way his shirt strains against his growing muscles, the way his bottom lip will be shiny and plump from his nervous teeth).

Zayn laughs again, a startled bark of laughter, but his eyes are grinning when he shakes his head at Liam. “Fucking mental. We’re literally in the closet. It’s too cliché.”

“Don’t care.”

Zayn snorts but doesn’t back away. He doesn’t look put off at all by what Liam’s suggesting, and Liam’s a bit surprised but also not. Liam knows Zayn just as well as Zayn knows him, and he thought maybe... but now he knows. He knows because Zayn’s measuring Liam up. He eyes Liam, gaze shifting from his spread feet to his muscular thighs to his eager face and back down again. He bites the corner of his bottom lip (Liam’s habit) and runs a hand through his hair (Zayn’s habit that Liam’s taken over).

“You do realize that if we fuck in this closet, Louis’s going to take all of the credit right? He’s going to tell everyone that he made us realize our feelings or some shit.”  But Zayn takes a step forward as he says it, crossed arms dropping.

Liam reaches forward blindly, tugging Zayn by his hips until they crash together, and Liam takes full advantage. He parts his legs, letting Zayn fall into him more fully, and he’s not at all embarrassed by his cock stiffening up in his jeans. No, he just grins at Zayn as the older boy lets out a surprised gasp followed by another raised eyebrow.

“Cheeky,” Zayn murmurs, voice deeper than a moment before.

Liam doesn’t deny it, but he does speak. “Louis might take the credit. Or we could tell him that we’ve been fucking for months now behind his back and watch him go mad.”

Zayn tilts his head back and laughs, and Liam can’t help but watch mesmerized by the column of his throat, the joy on his face, the way his whole body moves with his laughter.

(And Liam’s been mesmerized by Zayn for several months now, ever since he possibly realized he was into guys as well and more specifically his best mate. So Louis’s not wrong about that actually because Liam has been eye-fucking Zayn, but he’s also been really fucking him. Despite what Louis thinks, Liam wasn’t shy about what he realized. He didn’t repress it or try to talk himself out of it. No, he went to Zayn. He went to Zayn because Zayn’s always been his best mate, and Liam wasn’t afraid of what Zayn would say. And now he’s glad he went to Zayn straightaway because Zayn admitted the same oddly enough, and that was that. They’ve been fucking for months now, regularly, and they haven’t labelled it yet, but Liam’s not worried. He’s not worried because it’s Zayn. It’s always been and will always be Zayn. No matter what).

Zayn finally stops laughing as Liam’s thumbs rub gentle circles over his jutting hipbones, and he relaxes easily into Liam’s hold. “We could definitely tell him,” he snickers, eyes twinkling with planned mischief, “and we also could fuck right now.”

Liam’s eyes widen in surprise even though he was the one who suggested it. He wasn’t actually sure that Zayn would go for it (even though he’s had a feeling for a while now that Zayn actually gets off on the exhibition thing, the almost getting caught thing, like Zayn wants other people to know and hear and possibly see). “Really?” he blurts.

Zayn’s lips tilt higher in a fond smile as his hands go gently to Liam’s chest, exerting soft pressure. He looks up at Liam through his eyelashes, somehow innocent and coy at the same time, and Liam’s a goner before Zayn even whispers, “I’d love to fuck you right up against the door, actually.”

And that’s –

Liam can’t even think after that, so he pushes Zayn away without hesitation, scrambling to move toward the door, because shit, that’s hot.

Zayn laughs behind him, clearly amused, but Liam doesn’t care. Not when Zayn just promised to do that.

“Eager, yeah?” Zayn teases as he follows Liam, motions sleek, and Liam thinks of those jungle cats, targeting their prey. It’s pretty hot actually, and Liam should probably think more on that, but not now. Right now he wants to be fucked against the door.

Reaching out blindly, he tangles fingers with Zayn, yanking him into him again. When Zayn comes easily, Liam wastes no time, pushing their lips together with ease.

Zayn kisses back automatically, grinning into the kiss as Liam slots their mouths together with familiarity. And it is familiar. Every single moment from the way their breath catches, to the way Zayn’s bottom lip falls between Liam’s, to the taste of Zayn’s mouth. It’s all familiar, but it’s not any less exciting as Liam presses harder into Zayn, deepening the kiss.

Zayn moans at the pressure, finally shoving back, and Liam’s heart thrills because yes. Zayn’s finally on board, fully on board, and Liam can’t help the way his body is responding. He shoves further into Zayn, pressing the lines of their bodies together and grinding until their hips catch, and Zayn can feel Liam’s cock.

“Christ,” Zayn breaks from the kiss with a wet noise, face flushed and pupils blown with arousal. “Liam, shit.”

Liam grins. He’s not vocal like Zayn, not dominant exactly like Zayn either, but he is teasing. He’s cheeky, all eager motions and teasing gestures until Zayn’s impatient and demanding. And Liam likes how bossy he can make Zayn, likes giving the other boy control, likes watching Zayn’s eyes darken as he gives Liam exactly what Liam wants, even if Liam can’t quite say it out loud.

Zayn’s eyes narrow, still dark with arousal, as he spots Liam’s smirk. “Oh, think you’re smart do you?”

The shrug Liam gives is careless, and he knows, oh he knows exactly what that gesture of arrogance will do.

Sure enough, Zayn practically growls, noise shooting straight to Liam’s cock, and before he can process, Zayn’s got him turned around. One short shove against Liam’s shoulders, and he’s barely catching himself against the door. His palms slap hard against the wood as Zayn crowds up behind him, curving himself to Liam’s spine until Liam can feel every single inch of Zayn’s wiry frame.

“Think you’re so clever,” Zayn mutters in his ear, voice rough. Liam trembles at the warm breath tickling his ear, breathing stuttering under the press of Zayn’s erection against the cleft of his ass, and the layers between them are too much. “Should make you pay for that.”

Liam shudders at that, because Zayn’s good at making him pay. Really good, and Liam loves it, he does, the torturous way Zayn plays with him, toying and teasing and dragging it out until Liam’s begging for it, for Zayn – but he doesn’t want that right now.

“Zayn,” he mutters instead, pressing back against the older boy. “Please, we’ve only got ten minutes and I want...”

“What do you want, Li? You’ll have to tell me.”

Liam groans, glaring over his shoulder at Zayn, who doesn’t look like he gives a damn. And fine. If Zayn wants it like this then Liam can do that.

“I want you to fuck me,” he demands, eyes locked on Zayn’s even as Zayn’s eyes widen. “I want you to fuck me against the door, and I want it to be so good that I’m loud. I want you to make me shout and –”

Zayn smashes their lips together, hands wrapping around Liam’s stomach and yanking him back. Liam gasps into it, mouth opening just as Zayn’s tongue darts in, and Liam sucks on it automatically because it’s Zayn. He kisses back like second nature, savoring the effort Zayn’s putting into the kiss, kissing Liam deep and hard and saying everything he can’t.

When Zayn finally draws back, he drops his hands to Liam’s jeans and undoes the button before Liam can blink. “Fuck, Liam, if you talk like that...”

He trails off, and Liam bites back another smile, turning to face the door to ease the crick in his neck. He doesn’t try to help Zayn with his zip, shivering when Zayn’s nimble fingers brush his erection intentionally. “Just want you to fuck me,” he mutters, voice dark with need as Zayn tugs at his jeans and pants. “Please, Zayn. ‘S all I want.”

“Fuck,” Zayn mutters, mostly to himself. He tugs again until Liam’s bare, hissing at the cold air on his exposed ass, and it’s suddenly obvious that they’re in public. Sure they’re in a closet, but they’re still at the TV station, and their bandmates are still on the other side of the door. Liam can hear their voices, and he knows that he and Zayn only have minutes before Louis opens the door and – fuck. It’s so much hotter than he’d realized.

Zayn’s fingers trace over Liam’s cheeks before he darts a clever finger up the cleft of Liam’s arse, teasing barely at the rim. Liam groans, shifting his position until his legs are spread further, jeans around his thighs. He leans against his forearms on the door, letting his forehead rest there, and Zayn shifts automatically with him, the heat of Zayn’s body pressed to his back.

“Still good from this morning?” Zayn asks, and Liam can hear the eagerness in his voice even if he can’t see Zayn.

(He doesn’t need to see Zayn to know what the other boy will look like. His face will be glowing, eyes sparkling with excitement and dark with need, and he’ll be staring at every bit of Liam’s exposed skin, like he needs to memorize it. And Liam can so clearly remember this morning, riding Zayn in their hotel bed with Zayn’s fist shoved into his mouth to keep him quiet because Harry was just on the other side of the wall, and Zayn’s expression had been full of nothing but love as Liam came with a cry over his chest).

“Yes,” Liam whines as Zayn’s fingers tease over his rim again, the point of his finger just barely breaching his hole, and he tightens around nothing. “Zayn, please. I’m good. Still stretched.”

Zayn presses a quick kiss to Liam’s neck, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, babe. Gonna use lube just in case right? Don’t want to hurt you.”

And Liam knows that Zayn’s right, but he just wants Zayn now.

He doesn’t get the chance to whine though, one of Zayn’s quick hands darting around to his front, yanking his jeans so his dick springs free. Before Liam can react, Zayn’s fisting him, hand gliding over his cock with practice. Liam groans, eyes glued to the motion of Zayn’s fist, the way he drags the foreskin back with ease, flicking fingers over the slit until precum beads up, easing the slide of skin on skin. When Zayn flicks his wrist, Liam gasps, and he hates that Zayn’s so good at this. Hates the other boy for undoing him so easily, and he’d be more embarrassed by it really, if he didn’t do the same thing to Zayn.

Liam’s so distracted by Zayn’s hand pumping him that he misses the ripping of the packet of lube. When Zayn presses cold fingers to his rim, Liam hisses in surprise, and Zayn shushes him immediately.

“Sorry, babe, sorry,” he murmurs, lips catching on Liam’s earlobe as he presses closer again and oh.

Zayn’s bare now, his cock throbbing against the back of Liam’s thigh, and Liam’s breath hitches in his lungs, coming out labored. How Zayn managed to open the packet, slick his fingers, and get out of his jeans without Liam noticing will forever be a mystery because before Liam can ask, Zayn plunges two fingers into him.

Liam groans, loud so loud, at the hot pressure of Zayn’s fingers, filling him up but not stretching him because Liam’s still loose and relaxed from this morning. And it’s pleasant as Zayn fucks into him with an even rhythm, easy, and Liam relaxes further into it.

“Beautiful,” Zayn murmurs against his neck.

Liam snorts, opens his mouth to deny it, but then Zayn bites down on his skin, hard, and simultaneously shoves a third finger in.

The noise Liam makes is unmistakable, the harsh drag of three fingers stretching him now in a way that makes him dizzy, but he still notices the way the room beyond goes silent.

And then –

“Was that – ?”

“Oh my God,” Louis yelps, and then there are footsteps pausing just on the other side of the wood, and Liam flushes with embarrassment. “Are they – was that – Christ they can’t really be –”

Zayn chuckles as he traces a hot tongue over the indents left by his teeth on Liam’s neck, curling his fingers, and Liam isn’t surprised when he nudges his prostate, pausing so his fingers rest there, and Liam tries to contain his whimper, he really does but –

It escapes out of his constricting lungs and echoes loudly throughout the room.

Someone yelps on the other side of the door, and then Louis’s practically yelling, “Jesus fucking Christ! They really are – Oh my God – I wasn’t serious. I didn’t think they’d actually –!”

“Careful what you wish for mate,” Niall – at least Liam thinks it’s Niall – chuckles.

Zayn laughs as well, fingers moving again like he made his point, and yeah, Liam thinks. Zayn definitely gets off on this. Liam can feel Zayn leaking, precum dribbling down the back of his thigh, and he’d probably be more upset about that if Zayn’s fingers weren’t consistently hitting his prostate, making him hitch his hips back for more every time.

“You – like – this,” Liam gasps out as he works his hips back, using his forearms to press back. He throws his head back on Zayn’s shoulder as he does, and he tries to keep his voice low, but Zayn’s still forcing breathy noises of pleasure from his lungs.

Zayn hums. “Yeah, I think I really do. Like that I can make you loud, Leeyum. Like that they can hear you, and know that I’m doing this. Want them to know that I’m the one fucking you, the one making you feel this good. That you’re mine, yeah?”

And shit, Liam should be put off by the possessive note in Zayn’s voice. He really should, but he isn’t. Fuck, no. He’s turned on by it, cock hardening, precum dripping from the slit, and he’s so fucked. This is so much better than he thought it would be.

Zayn chuckles, voice low and resonating, like he knows exactly what Liam’s thinking. “Are you good, babe?”

“Yes,” Liam hisses as Zayn strikes his prostate once more, long fingers curling there for a beat. “Yes, fuck, Zayn. Please just fuck me already.”

“Liam James Payne!”

Liam flinches, head still resting on Zayn’s shoulder, at the high pitch of Louis’s voice as it cracks through the air. He hadn’t meant to say it that loud.

Zayn ignores it, fingers disappearing, and this time Liam hears the clear sound of a condom wrapper ripping, feels the way Zayn shifts behind him as he slides it on and –

“Well at least they’re using protection,” Harry mutters.

Liam flushes.

“You’re thinking too much,” Zayn’s voice back at his ear, hot against his skin, and Liam shudders as Zayn moves back in. They’re fully clothed, but Liam swears he can feel the heat of Zayn’s skin against his, and they’re going to look fucked when they finally get out of this closet. “Stop thinking, Li, yeah?”

“Make me.”

Zayn stills behind him, everything stopping for a second, and even Liam blinks at that because he’s never that challenging in bed. Or well, he hasn’t been before, but this isn’t anywhere close to their normal situation.

“Fuck,” Zayn mutters, voice shocked into a normal tone. “That’s hot.”

“I –” Liam tries, uncertain, but Zayn’s moving again before he can formulate a response. Zayn’s pressing him harder against the door, forcing Liam to press his forearms to the wood, nudging his legs even wider until Liam feels caged in and exposed all at once.

“Don’t apologize,” Zayn murmurs. “Liked it.”

“Yeah?” Liam breathes, relaxing into the embrace.

Zayn doesn’t respond, and Liam’s frowning again but then –

“Oh!”

Zayn slams into him with no warning, and it burns a bit, but not unpleasantly, and the air is punched from Liam’s lungs. Everything stops for a moment as Zayn pauses, fully within Liam, and Liam can’t even think as his harsh breath leaves his lungs.

“Sorry,” Zayn mumbles, voice tight with control, and he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

Once again, he doesn’t give Liam any time to respond though before he’s moving.

Liam whines, head falling forward to thud against the door, because shit. Zayn’s setting a punishing pace, pushing hard and deep into Liam with every thrust, and Liam’s scrambling to match himself to it. Zayn’s hand darts around to wrap once again around Liam’s cock, and he whimpers at the rough feel of Zayn’s skin as he matches his thrusts.

“Zayn –” it’s drawn out on a moan as Zayn strikes his prostate, flicking his fingers over Liam’s leaking slit at the same time.

“Sorry,” Zayn says again, his own breathing growing unsteady. “But we’ve only got a few minutes, and fuck Liam I want you to cum. I want you to cum shouting my name.”

Liam’s blindly nodding, forehead pressed against the door because he can’t move. Every thrust of Zayn’s hips jolts him and sends pleasure coursing through him and it’s too much and not enough. They don’t always fuck hard, but Liam loves it when they do. His breathing grows more erratic with every thrust, and the drag of Zayn’s cock inside of him makes him hiss.

“Scream for me, yeah?” Zayn demands, free hand leaving its place on Liam’s hip to tangle with the fingers of one of Liam’s hands against the door. Liam clenches around Zayn’s hand as the boy picks up his pace. He’s pounding into Liam now, fist pumping at the same pace, and it’s a lot. It’s far too much, but Liam doesn’t want him to stop.

“Harder,” he manages. “Zayn, harder, and I’ll –”

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, thrusting deeper as he rocks into Liam. They’re pressed so closely that Liam can feel every shudder of Zayn’s body. “Yeah, Li, please. Cum, baby. I’m so close. I need you to –”

“Please,” Liam whines, arching his back and thrusting back, pressing closer because he isn’t close enough. He wants to feel every inch of Zayn against him, and Zayn’s getting sloppy with his thrusts, falling short before he plunges deep again and slams against Liam’s prostate. Liam nearly shouts at that.

With unerring accuracy Zayn thrusts again and hits the same spot, one, two three more times, all the while pumping Liam, and it’s too much, it’s way too much until –

“Zayn!” Liam shouts, slumping as he cums over Zayn’s hand. And he’s dizzy with it, breathing hitching as Zayn continues to pound into him, and Liam feels everything. He’s so sensitive as he comes down, can feel every little flutter of Zayn’s cock, and his cock jerks as it goes limp.

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines, and then he goes still as he orgasms, hips pressed firmly against Liam’s arse.

Their breathing synchronizes as they come down together, Zayn curled over Liam as he slumps into the door. Zayn’s hand stays loosely entangled with Liam’s against the door, his other hand placed below, and Liam’s glad Zayn didn’t immediately wrap it around Liam’s waist because it'd be too much. Liam feels raw with sensitivity.

They’re a bit messy, he realizes, as he finally takes stock of the situation. There’s an empty lube packet on the floor, their jeans and pants around their thighs, and Liam can feel drying precum on the back of his thigh. Not to mention his own cum on Zayn’s hand.

“Christ,” he mutters, feeling the sweat cooling over his body.

Zayn chuckles, shifting slowly until he pulls out. Liam winces but follows suit, rotating until he can rest his back against the door. He meets Zayn’s eyes sheepishly as he tugs up his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned for now and watching Zayn do the same, wiping his hand against his pants to clean it. When they’re somewhat put together again, Liam clears his throat.

“We made a bit of a mess, yeah?”

Zayn rolls his eyes but ducks in for a short peck. Liam returns the kiss easily. “Yeah a bit,” Zayn agrees, keeping his lips close to Liam’s so that they brush with every word. “I figure that’s your fault though.”

Liam draws back, insulted. “My fault? You’re the one who –”

“Shhhh,” Zayn silences him with another kiss and a fond grin. “As I recall, you’re the one who suggested we fuck in here. And you’re also the one who went all demanding on me. ‘Make me’ Liam, really?”

Liam flushes but doesn’t turn his eyes away. He pouts a bit when he realizes that Zayn’s right though. “Yeah well that’s not nearly as bad as what you were saying so –”

Zayn grins cockily at Liam. “I’m always like that though. Love hearing you scream, ‘specially when it’s my name and you’re –”

“Please,” a voice interrupts, sounding strangled.

Liam jumps away from the door, Zayn barely catching him, and oh God they completely forgot about –

“Please,” Louis repeats, sounding seven shades of horrified. “For the love of everything holy, shut the fuck up.”

Zayn and Liam trade glances, Zayn looking not the least bit bothered as Liam ducks his head in embarrassment.

“You’re the one who told us to fuck it out of our systems,” Zayn calls.

“Zayn,” Liam whines, swatting at his shoulder.

“Do not say his name like that,” Louis warns. “Fuck. You’re never allowed to say Zayn’s name ever again Liam Payne. Do you hear me? In fact, neither of you are allowed to talk anymore. Not until I get this memory out of my head.”

“Your fault,” Zayn pouts childishly.

Niall snorts. “He’s right, Lou.”

“Shut up, Horan, and go find Harry. Who knows where he took off to when these two started getting graphic. He’s probably traumatized.”

“Harry’s said much worse,” Liam frowns, looking at Zayn for confirmation. Zayn nods.

“Yeah, well, it’s a bit different when it’s two of your mates,” Louis snaps back.

“You said –”

“Yes, Malik,” Louis hisses, still on the other side of the door. “I’m quite aware of what I said. Clearly I didn’t think it through. I sincerely hope you two have gotten it out of your system because I definitely cannot hear any of that ever again.”

Liam bites his lip. “Uh, well about that Lou...”

Ominous silence reigns for a moment, and then the door flings open. Liam squints against the brighter light, barely making out Louis’s form standing in the doorway. Zayn’s arm goes around his waist, squeezing comfortingly, and Liam falls into the embrace.

“What?” Louis demands, blue eyes squinting in suspicion.

Liam gulps but goes on determinedly. “We’ve actually, sort of been fucking for months.”

Silence, again, and then –

“What?”

Zayn sighs, yanking Liam closer still until they’re pressed together. “Liam and I have been fucking for months.”

Louis glares at them, looks back and forth between them, glares some more. He frowns, blue eyes narrowing even further as he takes in the obvious truth, the way neither boy is backing down, and then –

The door slams shut again, and Liam yelps in surprise.

“Fuck the both of you.”

“Hey!” Zayn hollers. “Louis, what the fuck?”

“Screw you both,” Louis yells back. “I cannot believe that you two have been fucking around for months and you didn’t tell us. That’s just fucking rude. I don’t care if I said I’d let you out of the closet if you fessed up and fucked. You two deserve to stay in there. This is –”

Zayn sighs and buries his head in Liam’s neck. “I hate him,” he mutters as both boys clearly block out Louis’s rant.

Liam’s hand goes up to tangle in Zayn’s hair automatically, soothing him. He echoes Zayn’s sigh though. “Yeah, me too actually.”

He feels Zayn’s grin against his skin, and he can’t help smiling as well. He won’t say anything yet, but it’s actually a relief that the other lads know now. Liam’s not a huge fan of keeping secrets; plus this means he can kiss Zayn in front of them. He’s been wanting to do that for a while now, and he’s fairly certain that Zayn feels the same.

“How long do you think he’ll keep us in here?” Zayn asks.

Liam shrugs, but his grin grows on his face. He feels lighter, and he’s happy. Christ, he’s happy, and he doesn’t think it’s just because he’s been fucked well. It’s Zayn. It’s always Zayn.

“Well,” he drags out, voice so clearly teasing that Zayn lifts his head up, eyes curious. “We could always go again.”

Zayn laughs, loud and full and happy, and he buries himself further into Liam, and it’s – well it’s just so easy, Liam thinks as he wraps Zayn in his arms, laughing with him.

It’s just Zayn, and Liam thinks he’s a little in love with both how easy this is and Zayn too.


End file.
